Underdog
by TermileChicken
Summary: The 71st annual Hunger Games are about to begin and the tributes of District 2 are gearing up to compete in the Games but to everyone's surprise a unexpected tribute enters the Games. A Underdog from District 2. Join Croga Wildefire as he battles against all odds in the 71st Hunger Games.
1. Part 1 Preparation

PART 1

PREPARATION

1

The sun creeps in through the curtains illuminating parts of the room. Its dawn and the mockingjays are awake and singing there tunes at the top of their lungs. The stonemasons can be heard getting to work in the distance and the kids are already making their way to the training centre.

My head is groggy and my eyes are tired. I pull the bed sheets tightly over my head to avoid the burning of the suns glare on my eyes. Hoping to catch another few minutes of sleep before my father comes in and wakes me.

"CROGA"

My father's voice echoes through the house followed by the thumping of his feet coming up the staircase as he approaches my room. Great looks like I won't be getting anymore _much needed_ sleep. It only feels like minutes ago I was down in the training area preparing for the Games and now I have to get up again. The door blast open my father's muscular figure fills the frame.

"Wake up you runt!" he bellows "Laoch is already finished breakfast and waiting to go to training."

Laoch is my older brother. He is seventeen years old and a Prime Candidate to be volunteered for the Games this year. He has the same muscular build as my father and is as lethal with a blade as he was too. It's no secret in my household that my brother is the favourite.

"Ok, Ok I'm up" I reply as I pull my aching body from my bed. Yesterday I was some kid's punching bag for three hours and let me tell you he treated me like one too. My father is still paused in the door frame, his brow furrowed and his eyes set on an intense glare on me.

"I said I'm up Da you don't have to wait"

"Just making sure there is a bit of hustle in you" he grunts

"Well can I at least have some privacy" I say indicating that I want to get changed. He just rolls his eyes and leaves the room shouting out some comment to Laoch before chuckling too himself.

I stand there in front of the mirror looking at my battered and bruised body. Unlike my brother and father, I'm weak. Somehow despite the great gene pool I was given nature decided it was best to bless me with the worst traits. My build was thin and small and I barely had any body mass. Which is useless considering I live in District 2 and there main export is Masonry or Peacekeeper recruitment, all of which required to have as much strength as possible. I didn't even receive the lush blonde hair or the piercing blue eyes of both my parents. No, instead I have a charcoal black mess and cold grey eyes. I swear sometimes I wonder if I'm even there child.

Down in the hall my brother waits patiently, eager to get moving.

"Christ Croga, you missed breakfast again, no wonder you don't put on weight."

He is right about not putting on weight. But it has a lot more to do with me just missing breakfast. I've been cursed with it. No matter how much I eat or how hard I train nothing seems to come of it. I'm like a bottomless pit absorbing everything I put into it.

"Sorry to keep you waiting again" I murmur

"Don't worry about it bro. I seen the beating Nash was giving you yesterday, I would want to sleep too" he laughs.

I admire my brother. He is strong, athletic, charming and the girls loved him, but despite all that he managed to keep a level head and stay honest. Which is something you don't see very often in District 2 and is defiantly something he didn't pick up form our father.

"Nash?" I hear my father's voice from behind me. "That kid Nash is thirteen years old! Two whole years younger than you and you let him beat you?"

"He is pretty big for his age" replies Laoch coming to my rescue.

"Stop defending him Laoch, he can speak for himself."

But I can't speak for myself I just stand there in silence. It stays this way for what feels like an eternity. My father just standing there his arms folded and tense silently judging me. He cracks a sly grin on his face.

"Pathetic" he puffs.

"Can't even fight a battle with words" he says shaking his head before turning to Laoch.

"Go on your going to be late for training, do me proud today son."

Laoch and I walk towards the training centre in silence. He is probably ashamed of me at this point. It doesn't take bulging biceps or ninja reflexes to string a sentence together. Finally the silence is broken.

"Look Croga, the training, the fighting, all of it. I get it. It's not your thing. But you are a smart kid."

He looks at me and stops walking waiting for me to say something.

"How?"

"Well you did ace all your school tests."

"That's because I avoided going to training Laoch"

"It doesn't matter about that. The point is you studied and practiced and you got the results. If I didn't go to training I would never be considered to be a volunteer."

He is right. Again my brother is right. I did get good results in school, but in a district that focuses on manual labour, what good is it having a big brain. In District 2 the pen is most certainly **not** mightier than the sword.

"But I don't want to be smart. I want to be like you."

I can tell by the smile on his face this clearly means a lot to him. He must get it all the time with the other kids but hearing it from me really means something to him.

"Funny you should say that because I want to be like you" he replies. "There are so many kids in District 2 like me but there is no one like you. You are unique."

With that Laoch begins walking again. He is right no one in the district is like me. I'm sure he meant it as a compliment but to me it wasn't he just highlighted how much of an outcast I am around here.

The training centre is full of all the eligible tributes for this year's Hunger Games. We are all gathered in front of a stage in the main hall. Today is the day they announce the Prime Tributes to compete in the Games. See the way things work in District 2 is we train all are lives for the Games, to bring honour to our family and our district. Were what is known as a _Career District_ along with Districts 1 and 4.

Suddenly a voice echoes through the hall.

"Ok settle down. Today is the big day. Today we will announce the Prime Tributes for the 71st annual Hunger Games"

There is a cheer throughout the hall and even the sounds of cheesy _alpha male_ chants.

"Ok enough. I'm sure all of you know how this works but for the new tributes I will explain. Every year prior to The Reaping we will select our own two tributes. If their names are not selected from the reaping bowl, then they will volunteer in the place of whoever was picked. Make sense? Good.

The crowd goes silent. It's so quiet you could hear a pin drop. To the Careers this is the real Reaping because this is who will actually be entering the Games. Except in 2 it's not the anticipation of fear. It's excitement.

"Ok we shall begin in true Reaping fashion. Ladies first" says the coach as he lets out a little chuckle. The rest of the crowd follow suit and laugh along to his joke. Unlike the Reaping however there is no bowl of names the head coach just selects the two best tributes. So in a way I am lucky I will never have to compete in the Games.

"And our female tribute is. . . Daga Lancaster!"

Cheers erupt throughout the hall again as Daga makes her way to the stage; she is of medium height and has a very well-toned physique. She has short chestnut brown hair that comes down across her forehead and covers her right eye and the other side of her head has been shaved. I know who she is. She is lethal with a dagger and throwing knifes. Most girls of District 2 are but Daga is insane she can hit any target blindfolded.

"Congratulations Daga. Now our male tribute for the 71st annual Hunger Games is. . . Laoch Wildfire!"

The crowd erupts once more as my brother makes his way to the stage. He shakes the head coach's hand and waves to the crowd. My brother is going to the Hunger Games.

"Now remember act surprised when these two are selected at the Reaping" he laughs and walks of the stage.

See it's not technically legal what we do in 2. We're not supposed to train for the Games; it's supposed to be random. But the Capitol does turn a blind eye to it as it spices up the Games for the audience.

Laoch stays for training but I head home as there is really no point in me been there now. It's only when I get home and I'm in my room I realise the gravity of the situation. What it actually means for Laoch to go to the Hunger Games. I will be all alone. What if he doesn't win? Sure Laoch is amazing but Daga is also lethal and what about the other Career Districts. What if there is an upset and an underdog emerges from an outline district and wins. It's happened before.

All the emotions hit me at once. What if he dies? No one in this world treats me the way he does. He is kind and supportive while everyone else just looks down on me as if I'm some sort of scum. My eyes begin to well up with tears and meek sobs blurt from my mouth. Why did he have to be so good? Why did he have to buy into this Career nonsense?

That's when it hits me. He believes he can win that's why he believes in the Career and here I am sulking and ruling him out all ready. I can't even believe in him like he believes in me. Everybody's right. . . I am weak. I just want to be strong like him. But I can't. I can't even hold my emotions together. I lie on my bed weeping as thoughts of my brother in the Games wiz around my skull until my eyes grow heavy and close.

I'm standing in an open field, the clouds are dark and move swiftly through the sky like a raging river . . . there is a storm coming. In the centre of the field I see a figure. I start walking towards them, slowly edging my way through the knee high grass. As I get closer the figure becomes clearer. It's Laoch. I shout out to him but no noise comes out just the wind whistling as it rolls across the grassy plane. He just stands there motionless.

Another figure comes bursting over the horizon in a blood fuelled rage. His sword is heisted high above his head and he howls out with a battle cry. But Laoch doesn't budge he just stands there motionless. I scream and scream at him to move but nothing comes out its still silence. I break out in a sprint towards my dazed brother but I gain no distance he just keeps moving further and further out of reach.

The other figure is now on top of Laoch and plunges his blade through his neck. The grass is spray painted with a crimson mist as Laoch falls to knees. Suddenly I am by his side his pulse fading. I scream for help but I am still mute. No one can hear me. His pulse beats on last time and he becomes cold. I am alone.

I wake up in a pool of a cold sweat. It was just a nightmare. It wasn't real. I let out a deep sigh in relief and begin to wipe my watering eyes with the edges of my bed sheets. It takes a few seconds for me to register Laoch at the end of my bed.

"You ok?" he asks.

"Yeah I'm fine. It was just a bad dream."

"You were screaming Croga. You have never done that before."

How much of it did he hear? Better yet what was I screaming?

"It was a real bad dream" I reply getting out of bed. Laoch just looks at me with a puzzled look on his face.

"Ok then. . . "He trails off his thoughts are clearly processing what he just heard.

"You should get ready. Today is the day of the Reaping."

With that he leaves my room and I am alone again with just my thoughts.

Everyone is packed in to the square just outside the Justice Building. The Capitol requires everyone to be present on the day of the Reaping or at least viewing it at home or where ever they may be so all work and production ceases for the day. I can only imagine what it must feel like to be in one of the outline districts as the wait patiently to hear there faiths. On the stage I can see our district escort Tori Honeybee making her final preparations before going live to the nation of Panem. She is hard to miss with her illumines pink suit and vibrant green hair. She has been our districts escort for as long as I can remember and she must have been doing it long before that as well judging by the amount of makeup she has caked on her face. More than any other Capitol lady I have ever seen. She must be really struggling to hide her age now. No doubt she has gone through with body modifications as well.

She taps the mike signalling that it is time to begin.

"Welcome, welcome citizens of District 2" she exclaims in a thick Capitol accent.

"Before we begin the Reaping for the 71st annual Hunger Games we present to you lucky viewers a message from the Capitol."

A video reel begins to display on the massive LED screens that surround the square and stage followed by the boom of the Capitol anthem.

Every year before the Reaping the show the same old archived footage of how the districts of Panem rebelled and fought in an uprising against the Capitol and how the Hunger Games were formed. My mind drifts off back to my dream, of how my brother was killed. My eyes begin to water up again. I can't lose him. He has to win. The video ends and Tori begins clapping franticly with a wide smile spread across her face.

"We shall now begin the Reaping for the 71st annual Hunger Games." she says with her arms spread wide as if she was trying to embrace the audience.

"Like always ladies first."

She tries her best to walk elegantly over to the female reaping bowl but her heels are too high and she ends up resembling a baby deer trying to walk instead.

"Our female tribute to represent District 2 is. . . Bekka Strong!"

Sure enough just as the Bekka girls name is called Daga has announced she will volunteer as tribute and take her place and she heads towards the stage.

"And now to the boys."

My heart is racing all the emotions come flooding back. So much I find it hard to breath

"And the male tribute representing District 2 is. . . Laoch Wilde!"

My heart sinks as it registers that he is now officially going to the Games. I may never see him again. What happened next I can't explain? I don't know if it was the crushing pain of losing the only person who loves me or the jealousy of wanting to be him but the words just seemed to tear out of my mouth without warning.

"I volunteer as Tribute!"


	2. 2

**Hey guys I hope you enjoy this chapter. Please don't forget to favourite and give a review it would help me out a lots :)**

2

Time seemed to stand still. What have I done? My heart pounds faster and faster into my rib cage as if it was trying to burst out from my body. My fists were clenched tight by my side. My knuckles began to turn white and the blood rushed to my normally pale face turning it a bright shiny red.

I never intended on being a tribute, but some unseen force in the depths of my soul had pushed the words out of my mouth. By the looks of all the shocked and staring faces from the crowd they were just as surprised as I was by my actions.

I can't see Laoch but the camera pans over him and his face is projected on all the monitors surrounding the Justice Building for everyone to see. A disgusted look is painted across his face as he stares of into the distance probably trying to make heads or tails of what he has just witnessed.

My feet remain grounded to the spot in fear. The initial impact of adrenalin had begun to wear off and my body began to tremble in fear furiously. Suddenly the Peacekeepers are by my side and begin to forcefully usher me out of the crowd and up to the stage where an excited Tori waits for me. Every few steps I feel a sharp dig to my back from the butt of a Peacekeepers weapon to help hurry me along.

Tori beckons for me to join her and Daga on the stage. Dagas facial expressions are nothing like Tori's. They are a mix of utter confusion and share anger as a result of what I have done. I am now standing on the stage my body still trembling of fear as I look out over the gob smacked audience.

"Well look at this," says Tori with a wide smile. "We have two volunteers form District 2 for this year's Hunger Games."

The crowd don't react. They are clearly still trying to process what has just happened. I would be too. Fair enough if it was another Prime Tribute who had called out and broke the rules demanding to be a volunteer. But not me. Not this runt.

Tori still blabbers on about the Games, but my mind has already drifted off elsewhere. I'm still thinking about what I have just done and why. But I can't find any clear explanation for my actions. It's like hundreds of little things had pushed my sub conscious to its limits and it finally caved and gave up and just spurted the words out for me. The tears begin to manifest again, but this time I fight every urge in my body to release them. I can't break down now on stage with all of Panem watching.

"Let's give a round of applause for this year's tributes," says Tori as she begins to clap her hands together.

The crowd follow suit and begin to clap. There are no cheers however just a slow clap. It's as if it is just forced for the cameras. The share look of terror on my face is quiet obvious as I catch a glimpse of myself on the massive monitors. Suddenly it switches back over to my brother who has the same disgusted look. But now his eyes are locked on to me like a predator sizing up its prey.

The mayor steps forward and begins his final speech before bringing us back inside the Justice Building. I look back over at Daga her eyes fixed to some distant object high above the crowd. She will probably thank me for making her job in the arena easier.

The mayor finishes up and along with a group of Peacekeepers he escorts us back inside the building. The lead us through the main hall and down some corridors before separating me and Daga in different rooms and close the doors behind us.

Alone. I look around the room. I am in some sort of office. The floors are a rich dark wooden floor and the walls a smooth cold concrete. There is a big red leather couch at one end of the room and big desk that matches the floors at the other end. The windows are covered with big draping red curtains which block out most of the natural light leaving only the soft yellow glow of a lamp that's on the desk. The tears finally burst from my eyes and streams roll down my cheeks like a dam that had just gave way.

I drop to my knees and cover my face with the palms of my hands muffling the sobs and moans that blurt from my lips. What have I done? Why me? Why did I open my big mouth? It doesn't make sense I would never do anything like this and now I'm as good as dead.

The door to the office slowly opens. Someone actually had come to say goodbye to me. My brother steps in to the dimly lit room the look of disgust wiped from his face and instead replaced with one of remorse. The Peacekeeper slams the door shut and I scramble to my feet franticly wiping the tears and mucus from my face.

"I'm so sorry," I begin. "I don't know what happened Laoch, it just came out of my mouth and now. . ."

Laoch cuts me off by raising his hand to stop me from talking. My heart races, now he is going to tear into me about how selfish and stupid I am and how he has tried to be patient with me but this takes the cake. But he doesn't.

"It doesn't matter now, what's done is done," he says calmly. "What matters now is you come home safe."

"What? How? Just look at Daga she will murder me and what about the other Career tributes?"

"Never mind Daga, she is cocky. You can out smart her."

Laoch rubs his forehead with the palm of his hand and sits down on the red leather couch.

"Look. . . I'm furious at what you did Croga but. . . Like I said it's done now, now I just want to see you come home safe. Listen to your mentor listen to everything he or she tells you she will help you live and when you get to the training centre don't ignore the survival stations. . ."

Laoch is cut short as the Peacekeepers burst through the door and begin to drag him out of the room.

"YOU CAN DO THIS CROGA, YOU ARE SMARTER THAN THEM!" he screams.

"I LOV. . ."

The door slams shut before Laoch could finish his sentence. I stand there tears filling up my eyes turning the room into a blur. If only I had as much faith in me like Laoch has.

The outside walls of District 2 fade away and the empty fields begin to wiz by as the train picks up speed. The inside of the carriage is full of luxuries objects and glassware all lay out neatly. The walls are soft padded material with a deep silver grey colour. The tables are laid out with a rich white table cloth and assortments of fine foods decorate it. The chairs are made from the same rich brown wood from the office and are padded with comfy white cushions. Tori and Daga sit across from me. Tori is eating what I can tell from the potent smell is some sort of fish and Daga just sits there here arms folded and her eyes latched on to me just like Laochs were at the Reaping.

"Lyme should be here any second now," says Tori as she wipes the corner of her mouth with a napkin. "She was the victor of the 61st Hunger Games and is probably the best mentor in all of Panem so you two are extremely lucky."

"Luck has nothing to do with it . . . I earned my right to be here," hisses Daga.

A sly smile creeps out on Dagas face her eyes still fixed on me. She is clearly not happy I am here and now I am probably going to be one of her first targets in the arena.

"Oh . . . I see," reply's Tori.

The carriage door opens and in walks Lyme. She is middle aged and stands over six feet tall and is very muscular. There is something about her face that would stick in your memory something you wouldn't forget. She is attractive but in a strange kind of dominating and imposing way. She just stands there looking both of us up and down. Finally she turns to me and speaks.

"Croga is it? She questions.

I just nod my head in approval.

"What you did back at the Reaping was incredibly stupid . . . Do you think your brave volunteering instead of your brother?"

Is that a rhetorical question I wonder? I shake my head indicating _no_.

"You just broke a very important rule in District 2. Didn't your head coach explain how it works?"

"Yes," I say finally speaking.

She just looks at me. Not the same way Daga looks at me like she is trying to find my weakness and intimidate me but she looks at me as if she trying to find my strengths. She finally just shakes her head and begins to speak again.

"Ok listen up you two. My name is Lyme and I will be your mentor for this year's Games. It is my job to keep you two alive for as long as possible."

Her voice is very commanding when she speaks with her hands behind her back in a military pose.

"Granted you two are not the tribute pair I was expecting but we will just have to make do with what we have got."

She turns to face Daga.

"I have seen your training videos Miss Lancaster. Impressive stuff I must say, you have quite remarkable aim with a throwing knife and how you handle a blade in close quarters is excellent as well. However your unarmed technique is weak and we will focus on that in training."

Daga's face went from a proud grin to look of shock in a matter of seconds. Lyme had just knocked her down a peg. She then faces me.

"Mr Wildefire . . . Unfortunately I know very little about you and judging by your whole demeanour and physical prowess I'm guessing there is a good reason for that. Care to enlighten me in any of your special training?"

"I – I'm not really trained that well in any form of combat sir. . . I mean mam," I mutter.

"Lyme will do fine. Interesting, so what exactly are you trained in?" she questions her face looking quite perplexed by my statement. She probably never had to deal with such a sad excuse of a tribute from District 2 before.

"N – Nothing," I say almost inaudible as I sink lower in to my chair.

Lyme stares at me again.

"I will have to look in to you," she says.

She turns to address the two of us again.

"It shouldn't take us long to get to the Capitol. When we do arrive training starts immediately. One you will be a victor so don't expect training to be a walk in the park, so I suggest you enjoy whatever free time you have left because as soon as were in the training centre you won't have any."

And with that Lyme turns on her heel and leaves the carriage.

"Isn't she something else," squeaks Tori.

"Well I'm just going to go make sure everything is in order for our arrival at the Capitol. I will leave you two to get to know each other," she says with a chirpy tone as she heads down the carriage to leave.

I am alone with Daga. I can feel her intense stare burning into my head. Any second now she could just pop up and dispatch of me before the Games even start. The thoughts quickly vanish from my head as that would be a stupid thing for her to do. But she could still easily do it.

"Look at you," she snarls. "Weak and pathetic, I bet you cried like a baby when they took you off stage."

She wasn't lying but just hearing her speak those words infuriated me.

"Lil brave baby trying to protect his brother . . . pfft . . . Give me a break. You are a disgrace to all of District 2. You are lucky we are from the same district otherwise you would be the first worm to get there neck sliced open by my blade."

Her words are like venom spitting from her mouth. She stands up and begins to leave the carriage before stopping and saying something else.

"But I can't say the same for District 1. I'm sure they would love to get their hands on you!" she laughs and then leaves the carriage.

There I was again left alone with only my thoughts. Except his time I welcome it. I am glad that I am free from Daga's presence and left to my own device.

My mind was whirling all I could think about was what Laoch said to me in the office and how I would cope in the Games. I just sat there looking out the window as objects whizzed by in a blur of colours. I know Laoch believes in me but let's face it. It would be a miracle if I won these Games.

I had just signed my own death warrant.


	3. 3

**hey guys I hope you are enjoying the story so far and don't worry there is much more to come :). Like always could you please review and comment or whatever it is you guys do :)**

3

I'm awaked the next day by the early sunrise. The sky is a glowing orange with the fiery blaze of the sun resting just above the horizon. I look at the tinted window as it slowly loses its shade of black resetting to its self-back to being transparent. It must be treated with something to make it sensitive to light acting like an automatic curtain or blind. For me however it has been set to act like some sort of alarm clock allowing light to gently pass through to gradually wake me up. I'm sure people of the Capitol opt for this graceful start to the day appose to the shrieking call of an alarm clock. It's luxuries like this that separate us from the Capitol. You wouldn't even find objects like this in Districts 1 or 2. Just a friendly reminder that even we are beneath them.

I slowly rise from my bed letting out an almost soundless yawn and a stretch. My eyes are sore and don't feel as well rested as I had hoped. Even with the Capitols memory foam beds and there expensive cashmere sheets no amount of comfort can account for a night of nightmares and crying.

As I look around the cabin where I slept I notice someone had taken away my old clothes and replaced them with fresh new ones which were gently laid out over an armchair that sat in the corner of the room. I walk closer to them, I can smell there freshness. Surprising even though District 2 is a wealthy district people there don't make too much of a fuss about vanity, unlike 1. Instead people focus more on hard work or training resulting in most people my age smelling of sweat or a forgettable odour from a cheap detergent. They smell of lemons. How odd. I wonder if Tributes from District 1 are waking now to the same smell and getting annoyed as it's not how they would like to smell. The thought quickly leaves my head as I pull the soft V-neck sweater over my head and begin to get dressed.

Lyme and Daga are already down in the dinning cabin where we sat yesterday. Both Lyme and Daga both have a selection of food laid out in front of them all neatly arranged in order of what nutritional value the offer. I never really thought about it much but no wonder the Careers are always so successful in the Games, they prepare for the Games right down to the food they eat.

"Look who is finally awake, sleeping beauty," grins Daga

I slowly edge towards the table and sit down. As I eye up the food I discover that the nerves have got the better of me and I have lost my appetite. My stomach feels tight and like someone is twisting it from side to side. How can Daga just let those feelings escape her and remain so calm?

"Well are you not going to eat something, God only knows you need it," she says in a mocking tone as she points towards my body.

"I'm not really hungry," I reply.

I reach for a slice of toast. It looks different do it's softer and has a more golden colour to it. It doesn't taste like regular toast either. It tastes of eggs. French toast. I have never tried it before but it tastes good.

"So I researched you," Lyme says to me as she reaches across the table to grab a jug of milk and begins to fill her glass.

"You are an interesting boy Croga I,ll give you that," she continues after taking a mouthful of the creamy liquid.

"No real talents in combat and you don't really look like someone from District 2 and you are quiet reserved. If it wasn't for the pale skin I would guess you were from District 12."

I just acknowledge her words and take another bite from the toast, chewing it slowly.

"But what I find most interesting is your school test results and aptitude tests," she says finally turning in her seat to face me. She pulls a piece of paper from her pocket and begins to read.

"Maths A, English A, Capitol Studies A . . . do I need to continue. I think you know how the rest goes," she says with a grin.

"Let's read the report shall we," she says her eyes drifting back towards the piece of paper.

"Croga Wildefire shows exceptional academic knowledge and ranks high above his fellow classmates and even surpassing older students . . . blah blah blah so on so forth," Lyme says with mocking gestures.

"Let's skip down a bit . . . now where is it? . . . ah here we go . . . When Croga is posed with a new challenge in the academic environment he quickly engages with the topic. He learns quickly and can adapt to any question we throw at him," she finishes speaking and rest her hands on the table above the paper.

"Like I said, I liked school. But with all due respect somehow I don't think knowing the founding members of the Capitol and Panem are going to help me in the Games," I spit back in frustration.

"So there is a bit of fight in you," chuckles Lyme.

"I don't care for the founding fathers of Panem . . . what I do care about are 3 words," she says pausing almost for dramatic effect. Daga has stopped eating and is now fixated with our conversation, no doubt wondering why Lyme is so intrigued by me. I know I am. Lyme finally continues.

"Learns quickly and adapts," she says with a smile.

"Somehow I think people under estimate you."

"Again with respect, don't be daft I am as good as dead," I reply.

"The Games are not all about who can swing the sword the fastest . . . brains come into the equation too."

Lyme wasn't like other District 2 victors she wasn't arrogant or obnoxious. She was level headed and calculated. She was like my brother.

"There are things in the training centre that I think you might excel at Croga. All we have to do is find out what. So on the first day I want you to try everything and let me know what catches your eye and holds your attention," she finishes.

Daga now looking disgusted at what she just heard slams her knife into the table.

"I can't believe this! The kid is as good as dead Lyme he won't last past the bloodbath at the Cornucopia, yet alone win the Games!" she says furiously.

"Watch your temper Daga . . . it might just get you killed. Perhaps he might not make it past the bloodbath but it is my job as **both** your mentors to keep you guys alive, so don't expect any favourites here as I am sure you are used to in the district." Lyme reply's plucking the knife from the table.

Daga just nods her head slumping back in to her chair and letting out a grunt like a spoilt child.

"Now we also have the trouble of getting you guys sponsors and let me tell you right now, you're not convincing me," Lyme says leaning back in her chair folding her arms.

"Who is going to like a girl who is up her own ass and has a frown that looks like pile of manure, no one likes cocky . . . the like confidents Daga," says Lyme

I let out a slight laugh and both Lyme and Dagas eyes dart over to me.

"I don't know what you're giggling about. Since you got here you have been moping and sulking as if you're some sort of victim. You chose to be here. You can't pull the wounded puppy routine now boy. You have to appear strong for the audience," reply's Lyme in a deep stern voice.

My laughter was quickly cut short.

"The people of the Capitol are deluded and easily convinced. The just want to see a good show and my advice for both of you is to give it to them," she finally says relaxing in her seat.

Then I see it outside the train's window. The Capitol. It goes on as far as the eye can see. It's a sprawling metropolis with buildings reaching high into the sky that scrape the bottom of low flying clouds. It's surrounded by crystal clear water that glistens as the sun's ray's bounce of its surface.

Suddenly the carriage went dark and the picturesque landscape was replaced with dark concrete walls. We had entered into a tunnel that leads into the Capitol.

"When we leave this tunnel we will be entering the station where hundreds of adoring fans await to see you. So if I were you I would please the crowd and give them what they want, because as far as were concerned the Hunger Games start now."

Hundreds of people shout and scream our names as we pull up into the station. The platform is lit up with every colour you can imagine. The Capitols fashion really does baffle me. I can see why Tori tries so hard to stick out; here she is just another face. Daga rises to the window and begins to wave at her fans. I try my best to bury every emotion that runs through my veins and put on a brave face. It's only till we are inside the building. I wipe my face and stand next to Daga with half convincing smile stretched across my face and I begin to wave. Hopefully it's enough to convince the crowd for now but I know this is just the beginning.

A group of Capitol people look at me, hovering around me every so often poking at me and whispering to each other. I'm standing in only my underwear in a room that looks like an operating theatre. Everything in the room is sleek chrome, even the floors are metallic. Along one of the walls is a giant full length mirror and several beauty equipment lies around the room. This must be one like the Capitol citizens come to and get there body modifications done and all there makeovers. Granted there ones probably look a little bit more inviting.

"Are you sure he is from District 2," one of them says with a queer look on her face.

"Yes he is . . . looks like we will just have to work with what we got," another reply's.

"What was it Bruno was going for this year?"

"The theme is _brave_."

"Well let's get him cleaned up prim and proper for Bruno then."

The quickly get to work tugging at my hands and hair applying all sorts of products to my skin and head. By the end of it all when I look in the mirror I hardly recognise the boy staring back at me. His pale skin has been replaced with a slight sun soaked look and carefully applied makeup now highlights the bone structured while still keeping me look masculine, but giving me a sharper more look. As I look at this new boy the workers leave the room. Maybe convincing the Capitol I'm not some wounded boy will be easier than I thought.

The door opens and a new figure enters the room. A tall slender man with a sequenced gold suit and red tie, his hair is black and slicked back and he has an odd goatee that morphs into a series of complex designs that formed into a beard.

"Oh you must be Croga," he grins.

His accent is so strange. I can hear the Capitol tones but there is something else to his voice. Something that is far more forigne.

"I'm sure you have heard this before but you are not the type I was expecting."

He is right this isn't the first time I have heard this and I doubt it will be the last, but there was something comforting in his strange voice. I don't think he meant any disrespect. It is almost as if he is welcome to my difference to normal District 2 Tributes.

"Oh I love a good challenge and you my boy have so much potential," he says.

"So you must be Bruno," I reply

"Oh where are my manors. Allow me to introduce myself. I am Bruno Estrovanz," he dramatically exclaims as he bows.

I just stare at him. There is nothing I can say but I do feel somewhat comforted by his presence.

"Now . . . the team I am going for this year is_ brave_," he begins.

"So what I had in mind for the chariot ride is this," he says indicating to the wall.

It's a glimmering gold armoured chest piece with a dark red skirt and matching gold gauntlets and grieves. A long red cape hangs down beside with a golden helmet next to that.

"What says brave like warriors charging into battle on their chariots of fire," he says clasping his hands together.

"And what says brave like Croga Wildefire, such a powerful name," he smiles.

A smile comes to my face to but this time its genuine.

He laughs "It's practically in your name."

I look at him with a puzzled look. His face also changes to an almost sad one.

"Oh dear boy don't tell me you don't know," he says.

"Know what?" I ask

"Your name . . . Croga . . . in an ancient language it translates to _brave_," he says with the big wide smile once more returning to his face.

I'm called Brave? It never occurred to me what my name actually meant. My mother named me and she had died when I was very young and I never thought to ask. But it fills me with warmth that my mother hadn't just picked some silly name like most families in the Career districts. She had put thought into it. She tried to give me a name that reflected my character and a name to live up to. But I failed her too; I'm nothing like she pictured me.

Somehow Bruno senses my distress. Am I really that bad at hiding my emotions?

"I have seen my tributes of all shapes and sizes come through my doors, but you . . . you are different," he says his voice now softer.

"The way you volunteered for your brother . . . It wasn't an act to compete in the Games but rather an act of courage. You would rather compete yourself than watch your brother suffer in the arena," he finishes with a tear in his eye.

Bruno was flamboyant and out there but all that aside he was a genuinely nice man. He spoke from his heart and meant it. Everyone else had seen my volunteering as stupid and disobedient but he sees it as an act of courage and bravery.

He was right too. I couldn't cope with the thought of my brother in the Games. It was a crushing feeling that I would rather risk my own life than watch him risk his.

"Now let's get you ready for the chariots," Bruno says with his original chirpy tone.

As Bruno helps me get ready I think about what he said to me about been brave and what Lyme said about me been a quick learner and been able to adapt and my brother's faith in me in winning the Games. For the first time since I volunteered I feel something.

A glimmer of hope that I might just make it home alive.


End file.
